dear girl
by S. Winter-Fitzgerald
Summary: After all these years, Phryne meets someone she knows very well. My contribution to January's Challenge of MFMM Year of Quotes.


dear girl  
How i was crazy how i cried when i heard  
over time  
and tide and death  
Leaping  
Sweetly  
your voice  
–Your Little Voice

e.e. cummings

xxx

Phryne didn't recognise the blonde woman, but she had the feeling she knew her somehow.

«Hello, Phryne», the woman said.

«Hello», Miss Fisher replied, looking attentively at her face as she tried to piece together the woman's identity.

«Are you that surprised to see me?», she said, amused.

The voice wasn't exactly familiar, but there was something in its cadence that tugged at her.

«It has been some time, don't worry», the woman continued, reassuringly, «if I didn't know, I probably wouldn't recognise myself either. I haven't stood in front of a mirror for thirty years». She touched her own face as if to get re-acquainted with her features.

«Janey», Phryne said at last, breathless in the end. That thought had crossed her mind as her brain coated Janey's childhood face with the changes time had brought to her own, but she had deemed it too farfetched even for a dream. She did wonder sometimes about how Janey might look like if Murdoch Foyle hadn't killed her but it was too painful and she shied away from those conjectures. Some vestiges had left a mark though, it seemed.

«The one and only», Janey said with a theatrical bow, smiling widely and warmly. She was slight, about Phryne's barefoot height, had long dark blonde hair and was wearing a white cotton dress. Phryne was hardly religious, but even she would have no trouble acknowledging Janey did look angelic.

«Janey», Phryne repeated. She did say her sister's name rather often but at the moment it felt she was trying to ascertain if she still knew how form those dear dear sounds.

«Phryne». Hearing Janey call her unleashed a waterfall of tears that could hardly let her see but that didn't impede her from smiling.

In a swoosh, Janey took a step forward and hugged Phryne tightly in her arms.

Phryne held her too, her arms wrapped so firmly around her, Phryne's own knuckles hurt and she worried she might crush Janey's shoulder-blades. Rationally she knew it was a dream, that she would never be able to hug Janey again unless Heaven and alike were indeed real and she had some random chance of getting in – if Heaven existed, Janey was obviously there -, but in that moment she could feel her sister's weight and warmth, Janey's hair against her nose and cheek and the smell of innocent and clear soap. She wanted to repeat Janey's name, to talk to her, but anything beyond holding her felt like a waste of time and opportunity. Phryne knew that she would have to eventually, but she didn't want to let go of her, to let her go back to the haze of memories she had come from.

«I am very very glad to see you», Janey said, her voice clear like glass despite the fact that they were still hugging.

Phryne wanted to say something, but she couldn't, not in that moment at least, so she squeezed Janey's shoulder for a while until she was able to muster a timid «I am too».

«I have something yours», Phryne said eventually, not knowing why those words had come forward, she just knew that she must say them. She had taken a step back but was still touching Janey's arms.

Janey's eyes twinkled and she clapped. «Show me!»

These gestures were so like those Janey did when they were playing in the yard, they tore Phryne's heart in a million pieces.

Miss Fisher swallowed dryly to dispel the feeling and reached into the pocket of her coat, her motions steered by some invisible force.

«My hair ribbons!», Janey exclaimed upon seeing the blue strips of fabric on Phryne's open palm.

«Your hair ribbons…», Phryne said equally surprised, looking at them too.

«I know I've learnt to meanwhile but can you help me plait my hair, Phryne? I miss it», Janey asked, starting to part it. She had always been good at that, crossing the three thick strands of hair had what had proved more difficult, but eventually she had mastered it too, after thoroughly following Phryne's instructions and mirroring the swift way her hands moved many times.

«Of course», Phryne said tenderly, smoothing Janey's hair with her fingers and plaiting the left side. Janey stood quietly as she had done when they were children and it felt like a very sacred ritual that couldn't be disturbed.

Phryne's eyes prickled with tears once again. It was almost eerie how her fingers could remember Janey's soft hair this well even after all these years. When she was awake, it always felt that those little details had long slipped away and she was just imagining things now. Well, she might be imagining it all this time too but it wasn't enough to spoil the love, relief, and happiness she was feeling now.

Miss Fisher tied the end of the plaid with the ribbon Janey gave her.

«Now the other side».

Janey turned, smiling at Phryne as she did so.

«Thank you. This is nice».

«Thank _you»,_ Phryne paused her movements and looked at Janey straight in the eyes. «And I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you». Her voice trembled and she hoped it didn't rob her words of the sincerity at their core. In a way she had made peace with the fact that things weren't that clear-cut, yet she still had felt compelled to say it nevertheless. She wasn't asking for pity or fishing for compliments even a slither of failure still brushed on her from time to time.

«You don't have nothing to be sorry for, any reason to feel you failed», Janey said, squeezing Phryne's hand. «Murdoch Foyle and his obsession did and I know it doesn't sound good and polite and thoughtful and forgiving but he got what he deserved. I know it doesn't help to rid you of your doubts, I know that my words don't either, but don't. You never stopped looking for me, fighting for me, ready to raise hell on earth to know what had happened to me. That's what's important. To me, at least, but I may just be a figment of your imagination». Janey said with a shrug, laughing heartily afterwards. Phryne laughed alongside her, deep, abandoned, loud laughs she couldn't stop. She was laughing so much, she had dropped Janey's half-made plait to put a hand to her stomach. Janey kept laughing and the more she laughed the more Phryne laughed as well until there were tears down their cheeks and their faces hurt. It wasn't that funny of a remark, they knew, but it didn't prevent them from revelling in their bond and how easy it was to laugh this way, without having to make any effort to be appropriate or quiet, just joyous. And so they kept laughing.

«Miss, are you alright?»

Phryne's eyelids fluttered and she tried to steady her breath. Janey's laugh still rang in her ears.

«Miss, are you alright?», Dot's anxious face hovered over her own.

«I am, Dot, I truly am».

* * *

A/N: This story was written in light of the January Challenge of MFMM Year of Quotes, put together by a wonderful element of the fandom. In case you aren't familiar with it, it basically consists on being given 3 quotes (bound by theme - e.e. cummings' authorship in this case) from which to choose one and make something out of it related with MFMM.

In case it turns out that juxtaposing it with Phryne's sister is weird, let it be known didn't seek more context for the quote in purpose.

Using this quote as a starting point for something featuring Janey may not be very original but at least it got me writing/posting something. (I've been struggling with a particular piece of fic for a while but that's for another day).

It's the second year of a similar Challenge but I haven't been part of the first one so I hope you like this (and that I may keep contributing to it this year).

Thank you for reading and your feedback is appreciated as always.


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